"That would be four missing, and we should have to hunt for them. But
they are all there. Try again." He tried--and made it fifty-six.
"Didn't I tell you that I was an idiot!" he said, in despair.
"Oh, you can't expect to learn the first time," she said, consolingly.
"It was weeks before I could do it; and I almost cried the first few
times I tried: they would move just as I was finishing."
"Oh, well, then I can hope to get it in time," he said. "Did it ever
strike you that though we think ourselves jolly clever, that there are
heaps of things which a workingman--the men we look down upon--can do
which we couldn't accomplish if it were to save our lives. For
instance, I couldn't make a horseshoe if my existence depended upon it,
and yet it looks as easy as--"
--"Counting sheep," she finished, with a twinkle in her grey-blue
eyes.
"Just so," he said, with a laugh. "Shall I have another try?"
"Oh, no; you'd be here all day; and we've got to see if the others are
all right; but first I think we'd better go and look at the weir; Jason
says that a stone has got washed down, and that means that when the
autumn rains come the meadows would be flooded."
"All right: I'm ready," he said, with bright alacrity. "I'm enjoying
this. I know now why you look so happy and contented. You're of some
use in the world, and I--the rest of us--That's the weir?" he broke off
to enquire, as they came in sight of a rude barrier of stones which
partially checked the stream.
"That is it," she said. "And Jason is right. Some of the big stones
have been washed down. What a nuisance! We shall have to get some men
from Bryndermere to put them up again."
Stafford rode up to the weir and looked at it critically.
"Thank Heaven I haven't got to count the stones!" he said. "If you'll
kindly hold my horse--he's not so well trained as yours, and would
bolt, I'm afraid." He slipped from the saddle as he spoke, and she
caught the reins.
"What are you going to do? she asked.
"I don't know yet," Stafford called back, as he waded into the river.
She held the horse and sat reposeful in the saddle and watched him with
a smile upon her face. But it grew suddenly grave as she saw Stafford
stoop and put his arms round one of the fallen stones; and she cried to
him: "Oh, you can't lift them; it's no use trying!"